Dodger:
Ooh, you sure picked the wrong guy to get hot dogs from, kid.
Oliver:
Get away from me!
Dodger:
Whoa! Chill out, man. I don't eat cats. It's too much fur. I've been watching you, and I think you're in serious need of some professional guidance. Now, what do ya say we team up and change old Louie's mind... about sharing those hot dogs?
Oliver:
I'm not goin' back there again.
Dodger:
Hey. It'd be a snap, kid. I'm an expert at these things. All you gotta do is learn some moves.
Oliver:
Moves?
Dodger:
You know. Tempo. Ooo-cha-ba. A rhythm. This city's got a beat. You gotta hook into it. And once you got the beat, you can do anything.
Oliver:
I can?
Dodger:
Absitively posolutely. The man you see before you is affectionately known as Old Louie.
[cut to Louie the Sausage Vendor, he's very busy making Hot-Dogs, with his dirty look]
Dodger:
A well-known enemy of the four-legged world. Our mission, cat, is to liberate those all-beef Kosher Franks, and hightail it outta here. Startin' to feel that rhythm?
Oliver:
Well, uh...
[a Jackhammer pounds the pavement]
Oliver:
Yeah! Yeah! I do feel it! When are we gonna get those hot dogs?
Dodger:
Right... now.
[Barking]
Louie the Sausage Vendor:
Hey! Dog!
[Gasps]
Louie the Sausage Vendor:
Hey! Get outta here! Hey!
[Dodger stealing all sausages]
Louie the Sausage Vendor:
Hey! Hey. Get outta there! I'll get you!
[Oliver jumps on the mustard bottle at Louie]
Louie the Sausage Vendor:
Get outta here!
[Oliver escapes going to the New York's Construction Area]
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 08:44
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